Just Another Potions Mishap Story
by Renee Spelt Strange
Summary: The horribly cliché yet strangely loveable plot device that allows Draco to be written as wildly OOC. Well. At least until he reverts back to his usual cold and awful tosspot self, that is. HPDM.


**Just Another Potions Mishap Story**

**An exercise in silliness and nothing more :)**

"Malfoy, what the fuck do you think you're doing? Get off me!"

"Mmmmm, Potter, stop struggling. I just want to hold you."

"Hold me? Have you gone mental?"

"I'm mental for not having done this earlier. Your hair is so soft, like spider-silk, and who knew you had all of these hard muscles under all these ill-fitting clothes, and _oh_ you smell so wonderful, Potter. Like cinnamon."

"Spider-silk…cinnamon…oh Merlin! You've been splashed with the potion, haven't you?"

"It's no potion, Potter. I'm just so in love with you."

"Fucking hell, this can't be happening to me. Shut up, Ron! It's not funny!"

"Your eyes, Potter…they're so…"

"Green?"

"No, Weasley! They aren't _green_. To say that Potter's eyes are green would be to commit the greatest injustice in the _world_. They're the color of April grass, of malachite and emeralds, of Christmas oak trees, of -"

"Yes, we get it. Harry's eyes are nice."

"Shut it, Weasel. Nobody was talking to you. I was declaring myself to Potter. Anyway, as I was saying, your eyes, Potter, they're so wide and round and big, like a kitten's or like -"

"Shut up about the eyes!"

"Fine, I'll talk about Potter's eyelashes then. Merlin, they're longer than Pansy's! And they curl and flutter like a girl's as well. And Potter, they're so _dark _against your lovely bottle-green eyes and lily-white skin. Mmmm they're gorgeous."

"Er, thanks…Ron, if all you're going to do is stand there and laugh, you can clean up my cauldron and all this splattered potion. When Slughorn gets back, tell him I've taken Malfoy to the hospital wing."

"Why are we going to the hospital wing, Potter?"

"Because you've been hit with my Amortentia potion."

"That's ridiculous, Potter. If I'd been hit with any potion you concocted, I'd have a better chance of getting poisoned."

"Hey!"

"What? I'm only telling it like it is. So, you see, this _proves_ I'm truly in love with you."

"Ha! Is that why you've been trying to make my life miserable since first year? Is that why you've been ignoring me for all of _this_ year?"

"I didn't know what to say to you when we came back for eighth year. I was so in love with you - stop snorting at everything I say! I mean, you came to my trial and my mother's trial and you pulled me away from Crabbe's fire. You saved my life, Potter. How could I not love you?"

"…that's…the first time you've mentioned what happened in the Room of Requirement."

"I know! I know it's terrible that I didn't say thank you. I meant to, I did! But…I was scared you'd reject me again."

"Again? When did I reject you to begin with?"

"In first year! You wouldn't shake my hand."

"You're _still _upset about that?"

"Yes! You hurt my feelings. It was awful. I felt like crying."

"You did not."

"I did. I was eleven years old, and my mother had said that everyone would want to be my friend…"

"Well…I'm sorry, okay? You were just really rude to Ron and Hagrid."

"Yes, I should have been nicer to the Weasel and the oaf. They are your friends, after all. What if I was nicer to them now? Then would you consider going out on a date with me? I'll even try harder with Gra - oh here, let me get those doors for you."

"_Christ_, are you…batting your eyelashes at me?"

"No!...Why?...Was it working?"

"Uhhhh…sure. Of course it was. I promise that just as soon as you've been examined by Madam Pompfrey, we can go on that date."

"Okay!"

"…"

"…"

"Why aren't you saying anything anymore? No more waxing poetic about my eyes?"

"Oh, I hadn't realized that you wanted to hear my voice! What would you like me to say? Would you like me to serenade you, perhaps? I can perform a stunning rendition of Celestina Warbeck's new number, the one about the -"

"NO!...I mean, no thank you. That's quite alright."

"Potter?"

"Yeah?"

"Why haven't you got a new owl yet?"

"What?"

"I heard about what happened to your old one. The Snowy. She really was lovely, and I'm so sorry you don't have her anymore, but you can't keep using Weasley's owl forever."

"How do you know I haven't got a replacement?"

"Please, Potter. I know everything about you."

"Everything?"

"You needn't smile so disbelievingly. Yes, everything."

"…go on then. Tell me what you think you know."

"Okay, so -"

**To be continued.**


End file.
